A Spark Ignites
by Drawing.Addict
Summary: 'A Spark Ignites' follows the evolution of the relationship between Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy throughout the Hunger Games. If they want either of their tributes – Katniss or Peeta to become victor of the 74th Games, then they must truly learn to work together, but can they put up with each other long enough to gain an actual victor? Is that even possible?


_**A Spark Ignites** – A Hunger Games Fanfic written by Tenille MacGregor - Aka;  
_

_The Hunger Games © Suzanne Collins._

**_Author's Note;_ **  
This is my first official fanfic so any reviews, faves, and alerts are more than appreciated! 'A Spark Ignites' will most likely go on to become a multi chapter fic, because Effie and Haymitch are so much fun to write! I really hope you guys and gals enjoy reading it, as much as I've enjoyed writing it! I'll be including more about other characters, such as Peeta, Katniss, Cinna, Portia, The prep teams, Seneca, Snow ect, as the story moves along, but for now they aren't in it much, or haven't come in yet. But at least there's no need to fret about them! This first chapter has been edited multiple times by myself, so hopefully their aren't too many spelling, or grammar mistakes. I think their should be little to none, since I've literally gone over more than 10 times, but if there's anything wrong, you can feel free to let me know, and I'll fix it right up! We all make mistakes sometimes, and I ain't afraid to admit it.

_**Disclaimer;**  
_A great majority of this fanfic is of my own work, but I've also included sections of the original script from the actual Hunger Games book by the lovely Suzanne Collins, just to make things flow more naturally. In no way am I claiming to be Suzanne Collins or own The Hunger Games. The Hunger Games and all related characters remain the rightful soul property of Suzanne Collins.

**Chapter One;**

Effie was from the Capitol. She was a ridiculously flamboyant, bubbly, over the top, woman. She stood for everything Haymitch loathed. Haymitch was a sloppy, sarcastic, drunk. He was the very definition of everything that irritated her. Most people would say that they were complete opposites, but there was something between them that ran much further than the hate. An unspoken, undeniable connection, formed through years of working together, side by side as Escort and Mentor. They had to learn how to work together as a team, despite their vast differences. It was for the benefit of their own district's tributes after all. Otherwise how would they ever be able to secure a single sponsor? Of course, learning how to work together also included learning how to cope with loss. The inevitable and yearly occurrence of the death of both their female and male tributes. The fact-of-the-matter was that no one ever wanted to sponsor a tribute from such a low ranking district such as twelve. No matter how hard they would try, they could never secure a sponsor. There was the one exception though, when they were fortunate enough to get one of their tributes a bottle of water. Even if it was a lucky surprise, the odds were still not entirely in their favour. It seemed they _never_ would be. The gift was completely overlooked and out shined by another sponsor gift. A gift from district four to their very own male tribute – Finnick Odair. A trident to be more precise. One of the most expensive gifts to have ever been received by somebody.

With each passing year, their situation seemed to become increasingly hopeless. No matter what they did it was never good enough. They could never bring a single tribute home. This eventually led to Haymitch losing all hope. He was never going to be able to save them. Not one of them. So why become attached, if it only leads to more pain? To more heart-ache? Adding to endless nights of horrifying nightmares? He just couldn't do it anymore. It was unbearable. Instead he'd become an alcoholic, drowning his sorrows as a means to escape from this horrid life, they called reality. All he ever wanted was to forget, and this was his only cure. The only one that actually seemed to help somewhat anyway. He didn't care if he was drinking his liver to smithereens, as Effie would put it. Anything that made it all go away, even if it was only temporary, was well worth it in his eyes. Yes, he knew that it would undoubtedly also make him the laughing stock of Panem, but why the hell should he care? They, the Capitol, took everything away from him. His whole family, not to mention his girl. He had absolutely nothing else to lose. "If you never get attached to anyone, it's impossible to loose again" was the motto he began to stick by. Distancing himself had become his best friend, and he intended to keep it this way.

But the honest truth was, as much as he tried not to care, he did, and very deeply so at that too. They were just children, sent away like the lamb to the slaughter. How could he not care? It was impossible not to. It was all just so horribly unfair, cruel, & most of all - barbaric. How could the Capitol do that? How could they just sit back and watch? The worst part being that they actually enjoyed it, as if it were some sort of great sporting event. All outlining districts forced to celebrate as well, as if the death of children was some sort of festivity? What they couldn't see was that children were actually dying purely for their own entertainment. The thought of that disgusted Haymitch to the very core of his whole being. It made him feel physically sick.

Effie always knew he cared about the children deep down, even if he stopped showing it a long time ago. The pain was written so clearly in his eyes. The train ride back to twelve was always the worst part of it, when they'd return without their tributes. The look in his eyes was more than just a look of pain. It was a hollow look. A look of complete and utter emptiness. It was as if he was dead on the inside. How could he bare to look the families of the 'fallen' tributes in the eyes? That look of blame… it was excruciating. It was so shameful. They'd blame him for not trying hard enough. For not caring enough. For not being sober enough. But it wasn't his fault. He wasn't making this happen. More than anything, he'd wish for it to end, but that was completely out of his power. It wasn't him that was killing off children, it was the Capitol. They were the real enemy. No one would ever know the pain he'd be cursed to carry on his shoulders. Yes the families of the 'fallen' would still feel the heavy burden, but not in the way in which he would. He'd be burdened with the guilt of every single tribute he couldn't save. Whether he helped them or not, it'd always follow him around, bearing down heavily onto his conscious. Their faces where to be forevermore branded permanently into the back of his mind. And in the comfort he found in solitude, he'd always think to himself if there was there anything else he could have done? If he could have changed the outcomes in some way? He'd never let anyone know about the inner workings of his mind though. He'd make sure of it. Every year he'd get as wasted as he possibly could, shutting the world out. This way when he stumbled off the train with big red bloodshot eyes, as drunk as a skunk, he wouldn't be able to remember a single thing the next day. This was the only way he could deal with it because it was eating him alive slowly from the inside out.

Effie of course was the only one who could truly understand the great pain he felt, because she felt it too. She was after all, the one who reaped the children. Of course she never hand pick the names herself, but it didn't matter. It was all the same. If it wasn't that child, it just be another. She had the ability to change lives in an instant. She was the _Grimm reaper_, deciding who gets to live to see another day and who gets to die. That was certainly not an easy thing to live with by all accounts. Since Haymitch was incapacitated most of the time, she had also become his part-time caregiver, looking after him when he was too drunk to do it himself. And as much as she'd hated to admit it, she actually didn't mind looking after him. She understood the reason as to why he drank so much. Truth be told she'd probably drink too if it wasn't for that schedule of hers. Her last bit of remaining sanity and order. The tributes deaths weren't meant to affect her, like it did him. She was from the Capitol after all, and as a Capitol woman she had a reputation to uphold! It simply wouldn't do for appearances. She was supposed to enjoy the games just like every other capitol citizen... but then why did she feel so God damn horrible every God damn year? Was it because she came to know the tributes? Or maybe was it because, by becoming an Escort, she involved herself in their fate too? Haymitch played the biggest role in securing possible sponsors, but she was the one who had to seek them out. Their tributes fate depended on both of them which meant it was a double effort on both halves. It was clear to her then that it was her burden to carry around too, not just his. So one day, in the privacy of her own carriage she secretly made a promise to herself. A promise that if she couldn't save them, then she'd try her very darn best to make the last few days of their lives and freedom the very best she possibly could. She'd allow them to do anything they want, wear anything they want, eat anything they want when they were on the train, and at the pent house. At least, whenever she could. There was a limit to what she could do for them, but this was one small thing she'd be able to grant them. It was the only one thing that would make her feel of any decent importance. Maybe she'd even make a difference in their lives? A small one, but a difference none the less and that is what would give her job true meaning.

* * *

Of course, like any other friendship Haymitch and Effie's connection was not immediate. Just like a flower it needed time, patience, and nurturing to blossom. Effie and Haymitch never confided in one another about their 'feelings' or the way in which they were burdened. They were from very different places and had grown up with such different morals that it'd be impossible for them to see eye to eye on anything at all. It'd just end up in another heated argument.

But the one year that was to change all that, was the year of the 74th annual Hunger Games. Katniss Everdeen, a 17 year old girl had volunteered for her 12 year old sister, Primrose Everdeen, when she was reaped from the female's bowl. District 12 had never had a volunteer before, so it was a very exciting event! She had a spark in her. A fire that burned deep within. This was something that their previous tributes had lacked and it's what Haymitch instantly liked about her. She was different. He could see a part of himself within her, so maybe this would finally be their year? Maybe she'd actually be able to win this thing? And then there was Peeta Mellark. A sweet and genuine boy, who had such a lovely way with words. Things were staring to look up for them finally. District twelve's odds were changing right before their very eyes. They could just feel it!

Initially everybody thought that the excitement Effie was bustling with was because of the fact that if one of them were to win, she'd stand a very good chance of being bumped up to a better district. This wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She did indeed want to be bumped up to a better district. Possibly one of the Career districts such as one, two or four. But it wasn't for the reason most people would have thought. It wasn't just the glamour of a popular, winning district that allured her; it was that she'd have fewer deaths to deal with. More wins, than losses for once in her career. That was all she really wanted.

After the names of the tributes had been announced, and the anthem came to an end, Katniss and Peeta were immediately ushered through the front door of the justice building. This is where they had one hour to say their final good-byes to their loved ones. Only one out of the twenty-four chosen would win. This meant that only one would return home.

Once they were done with their good-byes, it was a short ride to the train station. The station was swarmed with reporters eager to get a good shot of this year's contestants. Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch and Effie stand by the train's doors so the cameramen can gobble up their images. After a few minutes, Katniss and Peeta are thankfully allowed on board the train, glad to be away from all the unwanted attention. The train takes off immediately upon entering.

Katniss and Peeta go to their compartments and the rest of the day moves along relatively fast and uneventful. Effie calls them both to supper, and once they're done with that, they gather together in the sitting room to watch the recaps of the reapings. The only one who is absent from this is Haymitch. Katniss and Peeta carefully examine the faces of those that will be their competitors in this year's arena, as their names are called out. As they finish up with their own district's reaping, Effie purses her lips tightly together as she takes in the state of her wig. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Peeta laughs. "He was drunk" he says. "He's drunk every year"

"Every day" Katniss adds, both going into a fit of hysterics.

"Yes" Effie hisses. "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the outside world in these games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can very well be the difference between your life and your death!"

At that moment, none other than Haymitch staggers through the corridor's doors. "I miss supper?" he slurs and then proceeds to vomit all over the expensive carpet. He falls to the ground, lying in his very own mess.

"So laugh away" says Effie as she hops around the pool of vomit, avoiding Haymitch with her pointy shoes, disgusted by the sight. And just like that, she flees the room.


End file.
